


Reste Ici, Ne Me Quitte Pas

by PoisonousSakura



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: (uh oh!), Abandonment Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mrs. Mo is fantastic and you can fight me on that, Panic Attacks, Snowed In, probably ooc but idk, some fluff don't worry, they're soft!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonousSakura/pseuds/PoisonousSakura
Summary: He Tian barely processes that he can see Guanshan sit up out of the corner of his eye, obviously startled and saying something that He Tian doesn’t hear over his rapid heartbeat, resounding in his ears nearly as loud as his thoughts.He Tian has a panic attack, Guanshan comforts him
Relationships: He Tian/Mo Guanshan (19 Days)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 185





	Reste Ici, Ne Me Quitte Pas

“Oh, please feel free to stay over!” Mrs. Mo, hospitable and caring as ever, insists that He Tian spend the night. The snow is coming down in thick, unforgiving waves, already piled up to fifteen centimeters. He Tian thanks her profusely, smoothly spitting out more ‘thank you’s than Guanshan had ever heard him say in the entire time he had known him. 

Guanshan groans in protest, deliberately loud enough to be heard, and although he knows it won’t deter He Tian, at least it lets him know he isn’t welcome by any means. She shifts and shoots him a glare, quickly wiping it off her face as she turns back to He Tian. 

“Give us a minute, please.” She excuses herself and Guanshan into his room, quietly shutting the door before turning to face him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in disappointment. 

“Guanshan, look at the snow out there!” She starts. Guanshan looks away, defiant enough to nearly be cold. 

_Let him walk home,_ he thinks, trying desperately to find a way to justify throwing He Tian out in the biting cold. _Of course, out of everyone to get snowed in with, it had to be He motherfucking Tian._

“He can still get home.” 

“No, he can’t.” She’s stern and stubborn, and worst of all, she’s _right._

Guanshan doesn’t want him to spend the night - doesn’t want him to climb in his bed and invade his space like he always does, or do stupid, intrusive things that make his heart race. 

It’s so annoying. 

_He’s_ so annoying. 

Despite his best efforts, not too long later, Guanshan finds himself grudgingly lying down an array of blankets to create a makeshift mattress for He Tian, muttering curses under his breath and tossing the extra pillows down a bit harsher than necessary. It’s only 7 and Guanshan feels that passing the time will be hell in itself. 

They somehow decide on watching an action movie, and thankfully, it manages to occupy them, despite how ridiculously cliche the entire thing is. Eventually, He Tian grows bored of watching Guanshan out of the corner of his eye and pokes fun at him, getting close and smirking:

“I can sleep in your bed with you if you get lonely~” 

noticing his face redden as he moves to throw a pillow in his face.

“Fuck off!”

 _He’s cute,_ Tian thinks. 

_He’s stupid,_ Guanshan thinks.

And after a short-lived wrestling match of pillows, shoving, and some kicking on Guanshan’s part, they’re back to square one. So from then on, it’s meaningless conversations and basketball videos until it hits 10 and Guanshan decides it’s time to sleep. 

He Tian puts up very little resistance, surprisingly, and Guanshan is just thankful to finally have some peace and quiet, so without another word, he turns to face his wall and tries to sleep. 

“Goodnight, little Mo~” 

“Go to sleep,” he responds, because ‘Goodnight, Tian’ would be too friendly; would be like Guanshan didn’t mind him being there - which he did - because it means he would have to think about him, let his mind run into circles over the confusing subject that is He Tian. 

He Tian does as he’s told for once, and rolls onto his side to face Guanshan, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders settle into a steady pace until He Tian eventually drifts off into a short-lived, dreamless rest. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t feel rested. He cannot quite tell whether or not he had slept at all, but still wonders _how much time passed, exactly?_ He feels around in the dark for his phone, bringing it to his face and flinching away when he turns the screen on. 

_Bright._

When he finally adjusts to the brightness of his screen, the time reads 1:47 A.M. He lets out a hushed sigh and drapes his arm over his eyes - he feels tired, but somehow wide awake. _Restless, annoyed._

He rolls to face Guanshan and tries to fall back asleep, halfheartedly mulling over the fruitlessness of the task. So for what he perceives to be the next 15 minutes, he’s rolling around and shifting uncomfortably until he hears Guanshan speak.

“Go back to sleep,” he grumbles. It’s already late enough into the night for the usual harsh bite in his words to fade into a tired grumble, soft in a way that surprises He Tian to his very core. 

He Tian breathes in - waits - and stares at the ceiling with heavy eyes. His vision is unfocused and his every thought seems to be seamlessly melding into sleep. He closes his eyes and thinks. 

He knows he should be asleep. He _wants_ to be asleep, but here’s when he realizes it: there’s a warm buzzing in his chest that won’t fade - it’s nagging at him relentlessly, screaming out to be acted on. 

His mind races through the possibilities, _fantasies_ \- he could walk over and sleep on the bed with him, feeling the warmth of his skin through the sheets, or reach out and brush his fingers over the back of his hand, tracing each bone and vein like they would disappear if not memorized.

The truth is, he wants to. 

He _wants_ to reach out and brush his fingers, feather-light, against his skin, or hold him close, pulled tight against his chest, as they lie together in his bed. 

But he can’t. 

_He can’t,_ he reminds himself, because he doesn’t want to break that thin level of trust between them, doesn’t want to make Guanshan hate him again. He doesn’t want to risk losing him. 

His eyes open again as he breathes out, watching Guanshan, still relaxed from sleep, as he rolls over to face He Tian.

It’s odd, in a way. 

What little He Tian can see over the blanket is unlike anything he had ever seen before. His lips aren’t pursed like they normally are, his brow isn’t furrowed. He’s entirely relaxed. It was something He Tian had never truly seen before, and it makes his breath catch in his throat, makes his heart beat a little quicker. His stomach feels like it’s tied in knots, and it’s so jarring it almost feels like he could vomit. 

A phrase he had thought many times before begins to repeat, restate itself once again in Tian’s mind:

_He’s beautiful._

He feels this insatiable longing - a longing for Guanshan, a longing for comfort, a longing for _love._ It burns and it screams; it claws its way to the forefront of his mind, and without as much as a second to process his thoughts, it becomes all he knows, growing more encompassing with every second, every breath, every moment spent here, staring up at Guanshan. 

He wants to savor this moment, this pure, fleeting moment of perfect relaxation, of overwhelming _love,_ but deep within He Tian’s brain, this feeling, this moment, this _love_ is something he can never have. 

_He can never have him, he would never love him back._

His breath is caught in his throat again, and his chest tightens, but it’s not the same as before. He wants to get up and run and leave or tease Guanshan just so he could hear his voice snap back at him, just so he wouldn’t think of _this._

But it’s too late and everything is already flooding in, his breaths become shallow and labored, and it feels like he’s drowning, choking on honey. His thoughts are droning on as an endless, anxious mantra - 

_He should leave me - I’ll only get him into trouble - I_ **_did_ ** _get him into trouble - I’ll just hurt him and hurt him - I don’t want to hurt him like everyone else._ **_I love him too much for that._ **

_Stop._

_Stop thinking. I need to -_

Before he could realize, he was sitting up, head in his hands, body shaking, breaths ragged and loud enough to disturb Guanshan’s sleep. He Tian barely processes that he can see Guanshan sit up out of the corner of his eye, obviously startled and saying something that He Tian doesn’t hear over his rapid heartbeat, resounding in his ears nearly as loud as his thoughts. He can’t think clearly enough to look up, and even if he did, looking at Guanshan would be too much for him to handle right now. 

His eyes are screwed shut, and he sees static. There’s a lump in his throat and his fingers are digging into his skull - he wants his thoughts to stop and his breaths to even out. He wants his body to stop shaking, but he doesn’t know how and everything is overflowing in his mind and it’s so hard to breathe he feels like he could pass out. 

Before he realizes it, Guanshan is kneeling in front of him. He’s worried half to death, stammering out bits of sentences that He Tian can’t hear, hesitantly reaching out for his arms. He waits - calls out to He Tian again in a hushed, shaky voice - but it doesn’t work, _nothing_ is getting through to him, and he doesn’t want to touch him, doesn’t want to risk making him panic even more, but it’s the only thing he can think of and he’s desperate for He Tian to come back, to make some snarky comment and poke fun at him and be _okay_. So he reaches out his hand further, slow and a little shaky, heart clenching with a mix of anxiety and empathy. His fingers barely brush He Tian - he wasn’t even sure they had touched - and he flinches away from him. 

His head shoots up and his eyes snap open - they sting like hell, and he vaguely realizes that he had started crying at some point, tears flowing down his face and neck, mixing with sweat and eventually seeping into the collar of his shirt. It takes him a couple of seconds to work out what was in front of him - his vision is blurry and his thoughts are so consuming that it’s difficult to process anything else. 

“Guanshan?” It’s barely a whisper, voice hoarse, shaking with the rest of his body, as he watches Guanshan stare at him. 

“I’m here.”

And that’s all that it takes for him to break. Guanshan is _here,_ right in front of him, arms reached out, face twisted in genuine concern, looking at him, _begging_ him to be okay. He doesn’t think, not that he can right now, but all he knows is that he wants Guanshan. He wants to be held, he wants to be loved, he wants to know that _finally,_ someone in his life won’t ever leave him. 

He’s so overwhelmingly exhausted, and leaning into Guanshan turns into falling into him, fast and unrestrained. His face lands into his chest, right above his heart, and his hands move from his hair to grip at Guanshan’s shirt. He cries into him - his lungs burn, and his breaths are desperate, forced in between sobs. 

Guanshan brings his arms in, just as hesitant as before, and watches He Tian - waits for him to flinch away - but he doesn’t. He moves in further, further, and before he knows, he’s hugging He Tian to him, one hand gripping at his shirt while the other rubs slow circles into his back. 

He Tian presses against his chest even harder, almost enough to push him back, and he can feel his shirt getting soaked with tears. He tries to speak and beg and _plead_ with him - but all that comes out is a pitiful squeak. His throat strains again, just barely getting enough air to speak before he starts 

“Don’t,” He spits out, voice cracking, sudden but quiet, into Guanshan. He inhales, heavy and sharp, enough to make his lungs ache and throat burn, but it only vaguely registers among the mass of thoughts already plaguing his mind. 

“Don’t leave me,” 

It’s weak, and his words are croaky and uneven - just barely choked out before another harsh sob wracked his entire body. 

Guanshan sits, shocked, as he stares down at He Tian. His thoughts race and his heart clenches, and, without thinking, he says the first thing that comes to his mind: 

“I won’t.”

He moves one hand to the back of his head, the other pulling him closer. His head ducks down to rest on He Tian’s, further pressing them together. 

“I promise.” 

He feels every broken cry that shakes He Tian’s body to his core - he feels his tears and snot seep into his shirt as he buries his face into his chest even further, and despite how annoying or embarrassing or provocative he might be, he means it. No matter how he frames it, He Tian has carved his way into his heart, abruptly yet slowly, and Guanshan used to hate him for it. 

_Used to._

But now he can’t imagine life without He Tian. In this very moment, this raw, harsh moment, this elusive, fleeting feeling of love resurfaces, reaffirming that _yes_ , despite the swears and cruel words, despite the pushing away and avoidance, underneath his cold exterior, Mo Guanshan _loves_ He Tian for all that he is, and it’s no secret that he loves him back.

So he holds him tight and rubs circles into his back and pets his hair, lets him cry until he can’t anymore, lets him listen to his heartbeat through his chest as it steadies, and eventually, he’s so exhausted that he can’t even grip onto Guanshan’s shirt anymore, so he just relaxes into him and breathes, lets their heartbeats sync and his thoughts slow. 

He Tian finally calms, and he notices everything he hadn’t had the chance to before: he had left a soaking wet spot in the center of Guanshan’s shirt, his head was pounding, and he’s so exhausted he could pass out right here. His entire body is covered in sweat and his skin is warm and sticky, his throat is scratchy and the air he breathes in is cold and painful. 

“Are you okay?” Guanshan whispers into his hair, still holding onto him, gentle and caring as ever. He Tian can’t even speak; he just nods 'yes' into Guanshan’s shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he listens to him talk, the familiar cadence of his voice easing his mind further.

“You need water.” He mumbles, and He Tian nods again, affirming a bit more eagerly than before. 

He feels like _shit_. 

Guanshan lets go of him, slow and reluctant, watching him slump to the floor as they break contact, forehead ending to rest on the blankets, eyes cracked open to watch Guanshan. He walks to his closet, puts on another one of his nightshirts, and grabs an oversized one for He Tian. He places it down next to him and looks into his eyes the best he can at the odd angle. 

“Change your shirt. I’m going to get you some water, okay?” 

He Tian locks eyes with him, tired enough to nearly be lifeless, and reaches for Guanshan’s wrist. 

“Wait,” he murmurs. His fingers just barely touch Guanshan, but he stays as if he were frozen. He Tian barely manages to pick himself up, legs shaking under him and head rushing as he stands. Everything aches, and Guanshan hesitates to help him, but He Tian is up after a long couple of seconds and Guanshan’s hand stays hovering between them. 

“Water?” He doesn’t want to let Guanshan leave him here alone, even for a moment - he feels that if he let him out of his sight he would feel just as lonely as before. Guanshan looks back at He Tian, watches his puffy eyes trace his every move, and walks out of his door slowly enough for He Tian to keep the pace. He treads out into the hall, careful to be quiet, and makes his way to the fridge. 

He Tian stays leaned against the doorframe for support and changes into the shirt, the fluorescent lights stinging his eyes as Guanshan opens the fridge, illuminating his face in a harsh white light. The shirt fits him better than he expected to, and the smell of it, however faint, replaces the smell of his sweat, slowly erasing more of the panic and worry of before. When Guanshan comes back, He Tian is nearly asleep on the doorframe, painfully aware of his eyelids begging to close as his eyes trace Guanshan. 

He opens the water with an invasive crack, passing it into He Tian’s outstretched hand, hearing him mutter a weak thanks before drinking the entire thing in a few quick breaths, Guanshan watching each painful swallow, throat bobbing, breaths coming out in heavy pants until the pain subsides and the bottle is finished. He repeats in a whisper, a small “thanks”, and Guanshan gives him a small nod, taking the emptied bottle from his hand and placing it into the small trash can near his desk. In the same downward movement, he picks up the corner of He Tian’s blanket, dragging it up onto his bed as he glances back at him.

“What are you..?” His eyes flick, tiredly, between Guanshan, his bed, and his blanket, not quite processing Guanshan’s thoughts over the heavy haze of exhaustion. 

“Here,” he reaches down, grabs Tian’s pillow. “You can sleep on the bed.” He Tian thinks - feels a pang of guilt; Guanshan is going to sleep on the floor because of him - but also a sharper, more pronounced swell in his heart, the buzz of pure love; Guanshan is willing to do that for him. 

“You don’t have to do that.” He’s still quiet, tone nearly apologetic. Guanshan had done so much for him tonight, he felt guilty that he was doing any more. 

Guanshan almost replies on instinct: ‘Then I won’t,’ but now there’s no reason to hold back - Tian is as vulnerable as ever and Guanshan’s guard is already down - there’s no reason to keep up the angry, cold teenage boy facade when it was already okay to be entirely honest. So instead he lays He Tian’s pillow in between his own and the wall, pulling the blanket on top of it as he sits in his spot on the edge of the bed. 

“Come on,” He tells He Tian, watching as his face flashes between guilt, confusion, and finally, a soft smile - realization - all within a few moments. He walks over to Guanshan, stepping over the corner of the makeshift mattress on the floor, and practically falls onto the bed. His face lands straight into his pillow, body ungracefully, uncomfortably spread out on top of his blanket, but he’s tired enough to nearly fall asleep in the few seconds it takes for his limbs to ache. He would have, but he’s on his _and_ Guanshan’s blankets, and it’s getting hard to breathe with this pillow blocking his face. 

Guanshan watches him fall onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow, and feels a small smile sneak its way onto his face; He Tian was feeling better, albeit still weary, and there was a comfort in that. He’s spread out haphazardly, and although he hates to admit it, it’s endearing. Something about He Tian’s normal, carelessly bold self is charming - _lovable_ \- in a way that Guanshan doesn’t quite understand. 

He Tian adjusts, pulls their blankets out from underneath him, and falls back down on his side, turned toward Guanshan. He watches as he moves from sitting to laying down, draping his blanket over himself before he rests his head on the pillow and they’re finally eye to eye. They’re staring at each other for a moment - eyes darting around each other’s faces, trying to focus somewhere not as intent as the eyes, not as intimate as the lips - and Guanshan notices that He Tian looks a bit better; less disheveled and certainly more relaxed. But eventually, after enough awkward face searching, they lock eyes, and stuck staring into each other, He Tian breaks the silence and whispers, barely loud enough to be heard, 

“Thank you.”

It’s a small, frustratingly inadequate expression, but entirely genuine nonetheless - and Guanshan is staring into his eyes, those hypnotizing, dark eyes that he has to stop himself from getting lost in, and he sees, he hears all of the emotion that He Tian can’t possibly convey through words, true and unhindered, and so he reaches out to him and places his hand to his cheek, watching his eyes flutter shut under his touch, and replies. 

“Any time. I’m not going anywhere.” A smile spreads across He Tian’s face, big enough to stretch under Guanshan’s thumb, and Guanshan can’t help but smile in return. He lets his thumb run across his cheek, across his eyelashes: leisurely, delicately, as if trying to differentiate individual lashes. He continued along the strong lines of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, tracing over every inch of his face with light brushes of his thumb and fingertips until He Tian’s smile slowly relaxes, his breath evens, and he has drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Guanshan continues watching, staring at Tian’s sleeping figure with unhindered affinity, because in these moments, these tranquil, soft moments, there is nothing to be ashamed of - no fear of harsh words or rejection, no rough touches or thoughts, no self-doubt - all that exists in these moments are raw feelings, laid out before each other with careful trust. 

Guanshan reluctantly removes his hand, immediately missing the radiating warmth from He Tian’s face, and pulls his excess blanket over He Tian before returning his hand to the space in between them, letting his fingertips just barely touch He Tian’s jaw as he lets himself fall into a peaceful sleep, a slight smile still gracing his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Reste Ici, Ne Me Quitte Pas - Stay Here, Don't Leave Me  
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Do y'all ever think about that one chapter where Tian stands in a stairwell and freestyles a "I love Mo Guanshan but I'm not gonna say it outright" speech?? Because I do. And I'm pretty sure that's where I said "Yeah. Okay this boy has abandonment issues." and I just ran with it until some unholy force compelled me to write this.  
> (Edited to fix italics glitch)


End file.
